A Single Burning Flame
by teardrop456
Summary: Isabelle knew that she was different. Her blue eyes set her apart from everyone else. What she didn't know was that someone was hunting, searching for a blue eyed child to capture- and to kill. Will Mishel protect her, or will she learn to save herself?
1. Prologue

The castle was alive with music. Violins, lutes, harps and flutes spread a sea of delight through the crowd, sweetening even the most tired, bored attendants. The Fire King was holding a party, the instruments proclaimed. Laugh, sing, dance- the music was entrancing, demanding.

One foot in front of the other, the maid found herself stepping out of her lady's chambers and into the hallway. Her eyes were fixed on the shadows of the dancers below as the candlelight flickered to each and every breath, following a sweet melody of its own. She leaned over the banister and peered down into the great chamber; no one would notice her there, not while they danced and laughed and sang their pretty lives away.

A hush spread over the crowd, and at once the instruments grew silent. The thrill of expectation sang instead, filling everyone with complete, utter stillness.

And, with a loud trumpet flare, a single figure sprang in the air, from an alcove just below where the maid so precariously stared. His feet molded beneath him as he landed on the floor with a cat-like grace. The man stood up, and- with a single flick of his wrists- threw the candle flames into life, making them grow and grow until they nearly touched the ceiling.

Gasps of delight filled the air, and the trumpets began to play a fanfare as the man swept a bow.

The King had arrived.

Meanwhile, the maid still rested on the banister, clutching it with hands as white as death, trying to drink it all in. The nobles below gathered around the Fire King, praising him and chattering like a cluster of birds. Beautiful birds, at that. How the maid wished she could be one of them! But this would never be; a person as low born as herself could never be anything higher than the maid she was. And although she dreamed of dancing with the King every night, she could no more be a queen then a hen could be a swan.

Her pretty eyed thoughts were not missed. The head maid soon came to fetch her, and as she was lead away, the startlingly blue eyes of the Fire King might have glanced up and met hers. But in the dim candlelight, nothing was ever certain.

Later that night, after cleaning up her mistress and putting her to bed, the maid came back to the balcony that overlooked the lonely ballroom. She leaned against the railing and dreamed of the lords and ladies, dancing with their pretty gowns with blue raven feathers and sandstone beads. She dreamed of dancing with the King, swaying back and forth, leaping, turning, spinning and straining-

Her feet flew under her as she danced, and her plain dress swirled into the softest silk her fingers had ever touched. Her hair swung free of the severe braid, springing loose in soft curls that framed her face. Her black shoes molded into dancing slippers, and around her wrists hung gold bracelets. She danced along the balcony, and for just that moment, forgot about the real world.

A small laugh startled her from her trance. With a gasp, the maid turned to leave, trying to hide her red cheeks from the man's eyes, for this laugh had indeed been a man's.

"Wait!" the man said. His voice seemed to leap and crackle, like the flames of a new fire. She turned around to see the man who possessed such an odd voice, but she could not see him; she could only see his shadow, a vague outline in the doorway.

"Come here," the man said, his voice beckoning. The candlelight behind him shifted with his voice, revealing his face for a moment. Shinning black hair and blue eyes-

Wide eyed, she curtsied to the man in the doorway- the Fire King.

"Come here," he repeated. With no choice but to obey, the maid went to him. Whether it was her loyalty or his eyes that made her do it, she would never be sure.

He drew her into the room, a small library that was only dimly lit by a candle on the table. He sat down in the chair beside it, and offered her the one across from him.

She could feel the off stare of his eyes on her as she went to sit down. Her eyes stayed glued to the table. She was not acting humble; rather, she was afraid. This man had all the power of the great desert at his fingertips. He could destroy her simply by wishing for her death.

Clutching her trembling hands, the maid hid her fear as best she could.

"Will you dance for me?"

Her eyes flickered to his, startled, then lowered back to the table. "I-If it pleases you, your Majesty."

His eyes narrowed. "It would please me greatly."

Trembling, the maid stood up. She tried to picture the dance in her mind, her swirling skirts and gold bracelets, but she could not. The terrible black blanket of fear clouded her mind, leaving her as weak as a newborn kitten. She lowered her arms in defeat. "I cannot, your Majesty."

"I command you to."

She felt like crying, but when had crying ever helped her with anything? _This is what you get for dancing on balconies,_ she told herself. Raising her chin slightly- and yet still looking at the ground- she said:

"I cannot."

She waited for the outrage, the blow that would surely follow her insolent words. Instead, a pair of arms grabbed hers, and readied her in a dance position.

"Very well," the voice was thoughtful now. "We shall dance together, then."

Stiff in his arms, the maid twirled about, trying not to stumble or step on the great man's shoes. The feel of his one hand firmly on the small of her back and his other hand wrapped around hers was not at all what she had imagined in her mind. In her dreams of the King, he had held her delicately, as if she were the prettiest of flowers.

Something died within her, telling her that she was nothing more than a daisy to him. He would throw her out, crush her and stamp on her in a heart beat.

"Relax," he ordered.

"How can I?" she whispered. "You are the King."

"I am a man," he insisted. He stopped twirling her, and his voice darkened to a soft ember. "And I would like to prove that to you."

Her brown eyes grew wide as he led her back down the hallway, through the maze of shadows and gold. Finally, they came to rest in front of his chamber, marked with a royal seal of a desert flower set aflame, surrounded by a halo of gold.

She could not hide her fear this time.

"Do not be afraid," he told her, his voice smothering still. "I shall not hurt you."

She stayed silent, eyes cast on the floor.

His door creaked open, rust making an eerie sound that echoed in the maid's ears.

He grabbed her hand, and kissed her lightly on the neck.

"What is your name?" he asked, pulling her inside.

"Gabriella."

A faint whisper, lost as the door closed shut behind her.


	2. Isabelle's Treasure

"What a beautiful little girl!"

These same words were uttered over and over again throughout Isabelle's life, for the small girl's startlingly blue eyes leant her a certain delicacy that drew attention from even the most cranky of neighbors. Compared to the rest of the villagers, whose skin was the color of sand and eyes and hair the color of a moonless night sky, Isabelle was an outsider.

By the time Isabelle -or, as her family called her, Isa- was seven years old, she knew that there was something different about her. Not just by looking at her reflection in the small brook that babbled through her family's fields; no, she knew she was different in mind and soul. She was a private sort of person, which was why she often disappeared from her bed and slept outside at night. Sometimes she simply could not stand the baffling noise and confusion of five children sharing one room. It made her ears ring.

Her parents, ever the social butterflies, hosted plenty of parties in their homes, during which Isa would hide away in her room, sketching pictures with chalk on stone tablets-paper was not to be wasted- and talking with her younger sisters who were confined to bed.

Isa was moody too, where as her family wished for nothing but calm. Her father often told her that the god of farming, Patrinishea, bestowed gifts on peaceful families who prospered despite all their hardships. Although Isa tried, she could not find the calm in her meditations, nor could she find solace in praying to the gods.

When the Fire King had collected his taxes from them and reduced their stores of grain until almost all of it was gone, Isa had raged for weeks, where as her parents had prayed to Patrinishea every day for rain fall. "We were lucky he did not take our land, young one," her father had told her. But Isa remained angry, and would probably remain angered by this incident for the rest of her life.

Isa was different, and she could not understand why. But, she was given several hints throughout her childhood on how to solve this great mystery. In fact, when Isabelle was around thirteen years old, her brother Zander told her a secret which would begin Isa's great adventure.

It was after Isa had fought with her mom over an invitation to a friend's house. Isa wished to go into town and see her one friend, Mishel, who had invited her over for dinner. Her mother had forbidden her from going, claiming that Isa had too many chores to do.

Isa's mother had used this excuse several times before. Isa had suddenly realized that her mother was keeping her from going in town, which made her absolutely furious.

"Isa, don't cry," Zander said from the doorway to the children's bedroom.

"I'm not crying," she said stonily, wiping away the last of her tears. "How come mother lets you go into town at night and not me?"

"Isa, I'm a grown man now."

Isa made a face and Zander laughed. He had only recently turned sixteen and was pronounced a 'man', which he incessantly lorded over his younger siblings.

"I must also go into town to help father sell the grain and vegetables. He's getting old and can't carry everything by himself, even with a camel's help."

"I can help father with carrying the vegetables just as well as you can!" Isa huffed, crossing her arms saucily. " And mother lets you go to those pretty girls' houses!"

Zander smiled, his yellow teeth seeming white in the dim lighting. "I am the oldest. Mother is trying to find a suitable wife for me."

She refused to answer this statement, knowing very well that her younger sister, Keili, was already engaged to a farmer nearby. It still stung that Isa had not been the first daughter to be engaged. When Isa had asked for the reason, no straight forward answer was given to her. She had concluded that it was her strange looks that kept the men away. Zander's words hurt her, and made her face turn red. She remained silent.

Zander, regretting his words, tried to make up for his mistake. "Would you like to know a secret?"

Isa bit her lower lip. Despite Zander's cruel words, the mention of a secret still made her curious. "Secret?"

"There's a hidden treasure somewhere in our house, and it is meant for you," he told her, his face shining. "I don't know what it is, but I saw it once and when I asked about it mother said you could see it when you were older and hid it away. You have to find it, Isa!"

Isa was wordless with curiosity. Zander paused at the doorway, his dark eyes still shining. "Don't tell mother and father I told you that," he grinned. "Well I'm off to Hazel's house!" his eyes turned dreamy as he thought of the girl he was courting. "Goodbye!"

Isa threw a pillow at him, but as usual, her brother had already slipped away as silently as he had come.

For days she searched the house high and low. The house was not very large at all, but with seven inhabitants, it sure was cluttered. She looked under all the beds, searched through the boxes stacked in corners and on shelves, searched the barn and the storage shed behind it, and even searched the ground all around for any rabbit holes that could contain her treasure.

She searched everywhere but her parents' room, where she dared not go. At a very young age her parents made it very clear she was not to go into their room unless invited. As the days passed, Isa drew up her resolve. She knew the treasure was in there, and she must find the courage to defy her parents and steal into their room.

It was not so difficult for her, especially after having yet another fight with her stern mother about going to see Mishel. This time it was about propriety.

"You cannot play with his heart, Isa," her mother had told her. "In fact, you should not even be seeing him at all. You do not have a proper chaperone."

"Mother, he's my friend! He knows I don't love him, and he doesn't love me. His parents will be there! Why can't I eat dinner with him?"

"It is not suitable," her mother turned back to chopping vegetables. "I forbid you from seeing him tonight, Isa."

"I hate you!" Isa cried, storming up to her room. To her surprise, her mother did not follow to talk with her. She was left alone with her anger, which steamed through her brain and made her sight cloudy and uncertain.

She decided that that night after dinner, she would sneak into their room and find her treasure. She decided that mother was evil, a devilish crocodile who wished to ruin her life. She decided that, because her parents were so strict beyond reason, they actually deserved to have their room stolen into.

Isa snuck downstairs, slinking along the railing. Dressed in a white cotton tunic, she nearly blended in with the walls.

Voices in the dining room made her pause; for whose voices were they, but her friend Mishel's parents!

"-told her yet."

"She will be overjoyed at the news," that was Mishel's father, whose booming voice could be heard quite clearly from Isa's hiding spot.

"-was so upset, when Keili was engaged before-." That was her mother's voice, which was more difficult to hear.

"-not sure if Mishel-" mumbled Mishel's mother.

"Not to worry. They will learn to love each other in time," Mishel's father smiled. "Isa is a fiery sort of girl, and Mishel is a peaceful boy. They go perfect together."

Isa's eyes widened in horror. Her parents were deciding her fate.

She was to marry Mishel.

Isa fought down the bile that rose in her throat.

Married?

She was getting married?

Isa told herself to calm down. Half a second ago, she had resented her younger sister's engagement. And now she was panicked about her own? How completely and utterly confusing.

Isa pushed her muddled thoughts aside. Now more then ever she must find her hidden treasure. If she waited too long, she would never find it. When she got married she could never go anywhere by herself; such was the fate of young married women in Isa's village. Isa was not sure why it was this way, but it had always been. It was only when the first few strands of grey graced a women's head that she was allowed to roam about in public without her husband.

Back to Isa's adventure: she crept down the last of the stairs as quietly as she could, and then entered her parents' room, which was across the small hallway from the dining room. The doorway of the dining room was closer to the front door than to her parents' room; Isa was hidden from sight completely.

It was dark. Isa never liked the dark, even when she slept outside she was only comforted by the rays of the moon. She hated the stillness of it. And here she was, creeping around unknown territory, in partial darkness. Isa took a big gulp of air, and held her breath as she counted to ten, then released it. This helped calm her down enough for her to push past her childish fear and survey her surroundings.

Her parents' furnishings were much the same as those upstairs, except in much better condition, probably because five children did not live in it. Isa noted the pallet in the corner and the drapes that covered the window, which fluttered like ghosts in the small breeze. In the corner was a lounge chair, slightly eaten by moths, and beside it, a bookshelf.

Isa browsed the bookshelf, struggling to read the text. She only knew a bit of text from what her father taught her, before his eyesight began to fail him. Distracted by her lack of knowledge, Isa turned away from the bookshelf impatiently.

Her eyes widened in delight at what she saw in the opposing corner- a looking glass! She scampered up to it eagerly, staring at herself. Taking in her odd blue eyes and pale skin, Isa felt her smile fold into a frown. More apparent than ever was her obvious weirdness. She reached out a hand and traced the spider of cracks that spanned the mirror, cutting her reflection in pieces. The looking glass was a beautiful thing, even with strange sky eyes staring back at her.

A sudden laugh from the kitchen made Isa jump and accidentally press against the glass. The sound of crinkled paper met her ears, rough and drawn out. Isa flinched, waiting for her mother to come storming in the room, but she did not come.

Her heart thundering in her ears, she reached in behind the looking glass. Her fingers met the rare texture of paper, which she grabbed eagerly. Out came a stack of papers, tied with a single silk ribbon with an emblem stitched on the side.

There were three sheets of paper, three letters, of which Isa could not entirely read, especially not in the partial darkness of her parents' room. Cursing herself for not paying attention to her father's lessons, Isa tucked the papers under her tunic and snuck back up the stairs, and into their bedroom where her two younger sisters, Keili and Helen, were fast asleep. Zander was still out with his lady friend, but Juleq, the youngest of the five children, was still awake in the corner.

"Isa," he whined. "Where were you?"

"Outside, little one," Isa lied quickly, her heart thundering in her ears. "Watching the stars."

"Oh," Juleq nodded. "Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Juleq."

She waited until her brother's breathing slowed before she pushed the paper under her pallet. Trembling from her daring adventure, she lay down on her pallet and tried to get some sleep.

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**Authors Note: Hey guys, I'm back! Here's your first chapter, I hope you like it! Thanks to my fanfiction reviewers: Kana07, UsagiMiyuki, Zagato, Ori Lee, and Italiangurlinamessedupworld. You're my first reviewers!**


	3. An Unfortunate Surprise

Gabriella clutched her stomach and curled up in bed. It was time to get up, but she could not bring herself to. For the past few days she had felt atrociously ill, as if her very insides wished to escape through her mouth. It had been exactly two weeks since the king had bedded her, and he had not tried to see her again. _So much the better,_ Gabriella thought.

"Gabriella," her fellow maid Reese whispered from the other bed. They had to be careful that they're chattering would not wake their mistress. "Gabriella, what's wrong?"

"Reese," Gabriella gasped. "Bring me the chamber pot!"

Reese grabbed the chamber pot and yanked it over to Gabriella's bed, just in time.

"I'll make your excuses to the lady," Reese whispered, backing away until she was on the other side of the curtain.

Gabriella could distantly hear the argument that ensued on the other side of the curtain. Clutching her stomach again, she moaned in agony.

"Gabriella!" Reese ran over to the other side of the curtain. "A physician is coming right away. He'll find what's wrong and fix it!"

Gabriella smiled weakly at Reese's naive thoughts. _Oh Reese. Don't you understand? The doctor can't cure this sickness. Only a long wait of nine months can._ Unfortunately, many a maid had lost her job for this particular reason. If Gabriella lost her job, she would be thrown out of the castle, alone in a great desert full of thieves. Gabriella decided that, no matter what happened, she would try to keep her job, even if it killed her to get up every morning with this wretched sickness.

Sure enough, the physician arrived much later than Reese had thought. But, as the physician informed them, his tardiness was due to more _pressing_ emergencies than a maid with an upset stomach. Reese rolled her eyes and went about tidying the room, but kept an ear open to the conversation.

"How long have you felt sick for?" the physician sat in a nearby chair, writing away on a clipboard. He hadn't even so much as looked at her face.

"A week."

Scribble, scribble.

"Only in the morning?"

"Yes."

Scribble, scribble.

After the doctor poked and prodded around with his strange metal tools and magnifying glasses, he came to the following conclusion:

"Well, you might just have a babe growing in there!"

Gabriella did her best to look shocked.

"Do you know the father?"

"Yes." _That is none f your business, you lousy good for nothing-_

"Would you like to inform him?"

Gabriella did not even have to think about that one. "No."

The physician nodded. "An approval will have to go through the court in order to obtain a birth certificate. The father of the baby need not know unless you choose."

Gabriella nodded as a rock sunk in her stomach. Surely the Fire King would have to sign such an approval?

"Thank you, doctor."

It was not a heartfelt thank you, but in her defense she did try to draw up a semblance of a smile.

Later that evening, Lady Monica called her over in order to help her prepare for a party. Lady Monica was the very definition of spoiled. Gabriella knew for a fact that the girl had never dressed or bathed herself on her own. Since day one, 'daddy' had given her all the maids, clothes, dolls, and parties she'd ever wanted. If Lady Monica didn't get what she wanted, she often threw tantrums that could be heard throughout the castle. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Gabriella, knowing that she had to keep her job, strove to exchange calm words with her mistress.

"Gabriella!" Lady Monica scolded after finding out the news. "Gabriella, what have you done? Who will be my maid for the next nine months?"

"I will, my lady," Gabriella said as she painted a faint line of charcoal along Lady Monica's eyes. There was to be yet another feast tonight, this time it was to celebrate the end of the rainy season. Ironically enough, rain was the most treasured thing in the great desert. However, the King always took advantage of any special date to throw a party.

"How can you, with a baby in your stomach?" Lady Monica, who was just older than 16, did not know much about babies, evidently.

"The baby will not give me much trouble until my stomach starts to grow," Gabriella said, her face serene. Under the surface, she was full of panic. What if Lady Monica dismissed her? "Until then, the doctor has given me some herbs to help calm my stomach in the mornings. Everything will be just fine."

"Who's the father?"

Gabriella said nothing for a moment. Lady Monica was a huge court gossip. If Gabriella told her anything, it would be passed around the entire castle in seconds. The stories involving doomed maids were always enjoyed by the noble folk.

She dipped her brush in gold dust and began to apply it to Lady Monica's eyelids. "I cannot say."

Lady Monica's gasp of horror made Gabriella start. "You slept with multiple men? How completely inappropriate, not to mention indecent!"

"Lady Monica," Gabriella said, trying to fight down her anger. "When a nobleman imposes on a lower class female such as myself, there is no escape."

Lady Monica, for once, said nothing. She was shocked, to say the least. How young and naive she was! Did she not think that noblemen took advantage of all they could get?

"We'll have to keep this a secret," Lady Monica finally said. "If anyone finds out, it will reflect badly on me, as your owner."

Gabriella put the brushes down and turned away, gesturing for Reese to take her spot. If she did not leave now, she would slap the stupid girl silly, which would have a poor ending for Gabriella.

"Please excuse me," she said to the lady, hiding her clenched fists behind her back. "My stomach is acting up. Reese will have to finish dressing you."

"Oh yes, go and rest," Lady Monica said, smiling at her own reflection. She hadn't even realized that her words had cut through Gabriella like a knife. "Tomorrow you will be up and about in the morning, I hope?"

"Yes, of course. Goodnight, my lady."

Gabriella lay down on her pallet on the other side of the curtain, letting her bitter tears course down her face. She repeated the girl's words over and over in her mind. _It will reflect badly on me, as your owner. As your owner. As your owner. _

"You do not own me," Gabriella whispered to herself. "No one does. Not even that bastard of a king."

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_Dear Gabriella,_

_I do not write this as an appeal from a lover; but rather as a command from a king. It has come to my attention that you are now in condition to bear a child. As a direct order from the crown, this child must be rid of by any means necessary immediately. The birth of a half-blooded child could endanger a great number of things in relation to our country's safety. _

_Please note that this is a royal command. If you are to refuse the help of my physician, you will be hung for treason._

_With regards,_

_The Fire King_

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	4. Friendship

The very next day, Isa was told that she was going to meet her future husband.

"Who is it?" Isa asked, trying to sound enthusiastically genuine as her mother braided her hair. It was hard for her, to lie to her parents like that, but she could not give her little adventure away. Shifting her feet, Isa felt the folded up papers in her slippers. She dared not leave it under her pallet at home, where her snooping sisters could find it.

"You will see," her mother smiled, pinning the braid into a perfect swirl. "Just one moment."

Her mother left the kitchen, then came back with a box of jeweled pins. "You used those in Keili's hair when she was meeting her husband."

"Yes," her mother allowed. "They are family heirlooms, from your great grandmother."

Isa winced as her mother stuck the jeweled pins in her hair. When her mother was finished, she turned Isa around and surveyed her. Dressed in her finest long dress, which was the shade of the lightest pink rose, Isa looked startlingly beautiful. Her mother felt a tear come to her eye. She hugged her tightly, and then hastily turned away. Wiping her eyes, she grabbed a shawl and draped it over her daughter's shoulders.

"Come, Isa," the two girls, hand in hand, walked towards the door. Her father grabbed her other hand, and they walked to town just like that.

When they arrived at Mishel's door, Isa tried her best to look surprised. She had no problem expressing her resentment, which her parents both chuckled at.

Isa's mother rapped the knocker three times, and then stood back, her arms clasped in front of her and her eyes shining. Isa stepped back so she was in her shadow, trying her best to disappear.

Mishel's father answered the door. "Hello everyone! Isa, where are you? There you are, child. You look lovely! Come in, come in, Mishel is waiting in the backyard!"

Isa entered the familiar house behind her mother. The first time she had entered this house, crying, holding her knee with one hand while propping herself up on Mishel's shoulder with the other, Mishel's father had been just as warm and welcoming.

Mishel's father, Mr Jilem, was a merchant; he sold anything from food to imported goods. His wealth showed in his home, which was bigger than Isa's and well furnished. Isa's family often sold their goods in Mr Jilem's store. Her marriage to Mishel was like a business contract. Her dowry was a permanent promise that Isa's father would always sell his farmed goods in Mr. Jilem's store.

Isa felt used, but then again, the only friend she had was to become her husband. This was a better option than being engaged to a stranger, as Keili was.

Her parents stayed in the front room to talk with Mr. and Mrs. Jilem, while Isa swallowed her nerves and made her way to the back door. Opening it slowly, Isa peered out at her future husband, Mishel.

Mishel was slightly handsome, in a youth-like way. He was short black hair, and wide dark eyes framed with long, perfect eyelashes. His nose was strong and straight, his lips thin. His skin was slightly paler then others due to his working in the store. He had strong arms from lifting goods, but was tall and wiry. Only three years older than Isa, Mishel was also very uncertain about this change in their friendship.

Isa carefully walked down the stone steps, and approached Mishel. Mishel waited nervously, his hand clenched around a promise ring.

Finally Isa stood right in front of him, under the shade of a leafy tree. The two children stared at each other wearily. Silence spread through them, making them feel awkward and helpless.

Mishel cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"Isa," he said. "You look nice today."

"Thank you." Isa replied automatically.

"Isabelle," he said, trying to remember the speech his parents had pounded into his head. "With this ring, blessed by Menora, the Sun god -" he held out the plain gold ring, showing it to her in his palm, "I give you my solemn promise that you will be well cared for for the rest of your days, so long as you are faithful to me."

Isa stared at his outstretched hand, wondering what he was expecting from her.

"Isa," he whispered, his eyes darting towards the windows where the eager parents watched. "Your hand!"

"Oh," Isa held out her hand, and he slipped the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit.

Next came the hard part. Mishel took both Isa's hands and pulled her close. With a shock, Isa remembered what her mother had told her when she explained how the engagement worked-

"_A ring and a kiss completes the engagement, joining you together, forever."_

Struck dumb, Isa stood completely still, but when Mishel's lips met hers, she was forced to kiss him back. The kiss only lasted a brief second, but Isa still felt that it lasted far too long. When Mishel pulled away, Isa felt the cool air meet her flushed skin. She looked down at the ground, unable to look him in the eye for even a moment.

Mishel himself was blushing like mad, and he was glad that the young girl's eyes were glued to the ground so she could not see his embarrassment. He wiped his sweating palms on his pants and swiped the back of his shaking hand across his forehead.

"This is going to change our friendship, isn't it?" Isa asked suddenly, still looking at the ground.

Mishel thought about it, and- remembering all the times he and Isa had snuck out to go swimming in the stream only in their undergarments, felt a new blush spread across his face.

"I think so," he said, uncertain. "We will have to have a chaperone with us all the time now."

Isa stayed silent. She felt like crying.

"Isa," Mishel thought about it. "We can still sneak out, though. We just have to be more careful then before."

"Really?"

"Of course," Mishel nodded. "We can still go star gazing, or walking in the forest. We can still be friends."

Isa looked up into Mishel's eyes. Mishel gulped. Her blue eyes were forever startling him. "Really?"

"Can we go for a walk later today? At sunset?" Mishel gestured towards the windows. "We need to talk about this where no one is hovering over us."

Isa nodded and smiled. "The usual spot?"

Mishel nodded. "Isa, can I have your hand?" When Isa hesitated, Mishel said, "Mother says I should hold your hand when we go back into the house."

Isa nodded and offered her hand. Hesitantly, Mishel reached forward and clasped it in his own. The two friends then walked slowly back to the house, where their parents waited eagerly to congratulate them.

Later that night, Isa slipped away from her busy family and walked to the meeting spot. It was a certain spot on the creek that ran through the forest. Up ahead, as she walked she could hear the sound of louder splashes. Finally, she came up to a very small waterfall; she had found the meeting spot.

Since the day Isa had fallen outside Mr. Jilem's store, and Mishel had brought her home to bandage the cut on her knee, Mishel and Isa had been fast friends. They made plans to sneak out and meet each other. They played games: they skipped rocks on the lake, climbed trees, caught frogs, played hide and seek. Sometimes they would sit by the water fall and tell jokes, or just talk about what was bothering them, and what they wished the future would hold for them.

Things were different now. Isa was scared that everything good would change and become bad.

Mishel was already waiting at the meeting spot.

"Isa!" he smiled happily. "Let's go for a walk."

Isa nodded, still frowning in thought. "I don't like being engaged."

When she saw the hurt look on Mishel's face, she quickly added "I feel like I'm not ready for it yet."

"It'll be awhile yet before we get married," Mishel pointed out softly. "My dad said it will at least be four years before we marry."

"I don't know if I'll be ready by then."

Mishel chucked her under the chin. "Maybe you will change your mind."

Isa shied away, scowling. "No I won't!"

Mishel just smiled and scampered ahead, climbing up the nearest tree so quickly his form blurred in the fading sunlight. Isa suddenly felt very scared, alone on the ground. She jumped up and tried to grab the lowest branch, but was just too short.

"Mishel, will you help me up?"

"Will you throw a tantrum again?"

"I did not throw a tantrum!" Isa stomped her foot, scowling. "Help me up!"

"No!" Mishel's voice was growing more distant. The sunlight seemed to fade with him, drawing in the darkness that Isa so disliked.

"Wait! Mishel-" her eyes grew round and desperate. "I'll share a secret with you!"

Mishel head popped out of the branches as he swung upside down. "Secret?"

"But you have to keep it a secret."

"Of course I'll keep a secret secret. Here-"

Isa grasped his outstretched hands and he swung her back and forth like a swing until she was able to grab onto the lowest branch. They climbed a bit higher, striving to reach the top. Mishel stopped at the highest branch they could reach, and reached down to lift little Isa up. The poor girl blushed prettily at having her husband-to-be's hands around her waist. Mishel just laughed.

"What is it, Isa? What's the secret?"

"Here," Isa dug her hand into her shoe and pulled out the folded packet of paper. "I think this is the hidden treasure Zander was telling me about."

"Treasure?" Mishel grabbed the paper eagerly, unfolding it.

"I found it in mom and dads room, but I can't read it," Isa explained as Mishel read the letters silently. "Zander said that mom and dad didn't want me to see it till I was older, but I want to read it now."

"Isa-" Mishel had finished reading, and now sat, astonished, clutching the letters in one hand. "Do you know what this says?"

"No!" Isa exclaimed. "I just told you-"

"Shh!" Mishel admonished. "I'll tell you what it says, if you promise that you didn't make this up to fool me."

"I promise. Like I said, I found it in-"

"Okay," Mishel said shakily. He read out each letter, bit by bit, slowly and carefully. Isa's eyes grew bigger and bigger until they were the size of saucers.

"What does this have to do with me?" Isa whispered, hugging herself. "That horrid man!"

"Isa-" Mishel stuttered. "I think… maybe it has everything to do with you."

"What-" Isa's eyes lit with understanding. And furry. "No!"

"Yes."

"I won't believe it!"

"It only makes sense," he looked right into her ocean eyes. "You look nothing like your family, Isa."

"They would have told me."

"When you were older."

"Mother would have told me. Or father. Or Zander. _Somebody_ would have told me!"

Mishel grabbed her hand and held it comfortingly. "I don't think so, Isa," he said softly.

Isa didn't know what else to say, so she stayed silent. The silence stretched until Mishel couldn't bear it anymore.

"Isa-"

"I'm scared," she said finally.

"Don't be," Mishel reassured her. "You're safe here."

"I won't tell my parents I found these letters," she decided, stuffing the offending pages back into her slippers. "I'll put them back tonight."

"Isa-" he reached towards her.

"No!" she yelled suddenly, hugging herself and leaning away from him. "No, Mishel. Friends don't hug!"

"Yes they do," Mishel said. "And you are my betrothed. We can hug and all our parents will do is coo like doves over us." He grabbed her in a hug, almost smothering her. "You need a hug right now. No one deserves to find out horrible things like that."

"No-" Isa tried not to cry, but it was very hard. "Maybe we are wrong, Mishel. Maybe these letters are not meant for me."

"Maybe," Mishel pulled away, looking doubtful.

"Maybe this is a huge mistake," Isa sniffled quietly. "Let's pretend like it never happened, okay?"

Mishel paused, but the hurt in Isa's eyes made him break down. "Alright."

Mishel helped Isa out of the tree and led her through the dark forest. He watched in the trees as Isa made her way to her front door, and was greeted by her whole family, questioning where she had been.

"I went for a walk," was all she said, before her siblings slammed the door, and Mishel could hear no more.

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**Author's Note: So, just to clarify, there are two stories going on here, one is Gabriella's and one is Isabelle's. I promise this will all make sense eventually. :P**

**Thanks to my fanfiction reviewers: UsagiMiyuki, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, Ori Lee, and TreeTopRoyalty. **

**Thanks to my fictionpress reviewers, The Writer of Them All, and The Awesome. **

**So, what do you think of our Sun King? Is he too nice? Should I make him meaner? Let me know!**

**-teardrop**


	5. Visiting the Doctor

"Why does the doctor want to see you?" Reese whispered to Gabriella late one night. A letter had been delivered by a polite page boy to Gabriella, stating that by royal order, she was to attend a medical session with the doctor who had examined her previously. Gabriella knew what this meant, but it was too cruel and confusing for her to able to say without her mind snapping and breaking down. The screams were there, right inside her mouth. It took all her control not to let them loose.

"I don't know Reese," Gabriella lied, trying not to let her voice shake. "Maybe he thinks something else is wrong with me?"

"Gabriella," Reese sighed. "What's going on? Why are you so nervous all the time? Are you afraid the father will come find you again?"

"Yes," her voice grew quieter and quieter. "You can keep a secret, right?"

"Yes," Reese replied, her voice lowering to a low murmur. "What is it?"

"The father," Gabriella wrapped her arms around her stomach protectively. "The father is the King."

"WHAT?!" Reese shrieked.

"Shhhh!" Gabriella said. From the other side of the curtain, a faint stirring could be heard. The two girls stayed very, very quiet. They both tried to still their breathing as much as they could. When no other stirrings were heard, they continued their conversation in earnest.

"Oh Gabriella," Reese sighed after she heard the whole story. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

"He wants to get rid of the baby."

"Well, do you want to keep the baby?" Reese asked, her voice curious. "Does it mean that much to you?"

"Well, no- yes- well, I don't really know yet," Gabriella whispered. "But it's my right to choose, isn't it? I won't let him take that freedom away from me. I'm already caged enough as it is."

"Gabriella, how are you going to stop him?" Reese sounded fearful for the first time. "He's the king! He controls everything!"

A still silence covered them like a blanket. Gabriella felt a tear slip from her eye. "I don't know, Reese. But I'm not letting him murder my baby… my baby…."

Night flashed into morning, and Gabriella had to get up earlier than usual to attend the doctors appointment. She made sure Lady Monica was still asleep before leaving; if the lady had caught her leaving the apartments, even for a good reason, she'd think up more chores for Gabriella to do than usual.

She made her way through the palace's dim passageways. As lovely as the ballroom, courtroom and Nobles' apartments were, the rest of the palace was damp, dark and depressing. The servant tunnels were entirely made of stone, with only a few torches or so to light the way. They were just wide enough to let two people brush past each other, or one person carrying a basket of laundry, food or cloth. If the timing was right, a maid could sprint down the tunnels and make it without meeting anyone; if the timing was wrong, in one fatal collision the basket would end up on the floor, and more work would be created.

This time of morning was the busiest for the household. As the sun came up, all maids, menservants, cooks, pages, and other staff would run about here and there, preparing the house for when the Lords and Ladies deigned themselves awake enough to clamber out of bed. Breakfast was prepared in the smaller kitchen, while later on dinner would be prepared in the main kitchen, closer to the dining room.

Gabriella took the main hallways, knowing that the servant tunnels would be clogged. She also knew that all the nobles would still be asleep, but walking down their hallways was still a very large gamble. If something were to happen- let's say, a mouse ran into someone's room- she could be blamed for it. It had happened before, and surely it would happen again.

Still, she didn't care at that particular moment. She wanted to get this visit over as quickly as possible, before she lost the courage to knock on his door. She was sweating already, her pretty blank eyes starring off at nothing while she walked past the doors. It was all a blur to her as her thoughts took over, terrifying thoughts of the King and his ill intentions-

"Gabriella," a cordial voice said, slamming her back into reality. Frozen to the spot, she and her baby's father stared eye to eye. Gabriella's sweat seemed to freeze under his peculiar eyes, forcing her to stay exactly where she was. Her instincts told her to run, but she could not, for the life of her, make her feet move.

"Gabriella," he said again. "Good morning."

She said nothing. What could she say to that? _Good morning?_ What did that mean? When had a morning been good for Gabriella, ever?

_I won't show him that I'm afraid,_ she decided, holding her chin up a little higher. _He feeds on fear, the beast._

"Good morning, my lord," Blatant disrespect, calling him a lowly 'my lord' instead of 'your majesty', but she did not particularly care at the moment.

"What are you doing, coming down these hallways? Your mistress' chambers are not down here."

"The servant's tunnels are jammed, my lord," she said, trying to inch around him. "If you'll excuse me, I have errands to run."

"Wait."

Those eyes. Why did they always freeze her like that?

"I know where you are going," his smile was not friendly. "Do not forget what I told you, in my letter."

"How could I forget," she spat. Venom filled her as she threw her whole heart into one dangerous statement. "It's _disgusting_!_"_

He looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes turning from jagged swords to a melted ice cube. Gabriella felt one foot move in front of the other, and, without breaking his gaze, started to walk away from him.

"You have overstepped your place," he seethed, his face setting into a severely angered look. "Do not forget that I control your fate. I could have you killed in an instant. Do not anger me again."

"Do pardon me, your Majesty," Gabriella said. Her voice had an edge to it. "I have an appointment that I have a royal obligation to attend to."

And with that, she walked quickly up the hallway, leaving the fuming King behind her.

As soon as she rounded the corner, her legs gave out from underneath her. Leaning on the wall for support, Gabriella wiped the sweat from her forehead and continued her long journey to the other end of the castle.

Her heart had finally calmed down to a steady rate, only to speed back up again as soon as she saw the doctor's door. On the front was a painted picture of some tools and herbs, a bed and- ironically- on the bed was a child, being nursed back to health.

Gabriella felt a rock sink in her stomach, but she held her head up high. After facing down the king, the physician should be fairly easy.

"Gabriella," the doctor nodded as she came in. "Please sit down."

As she made her way to the bed, he locked the door behind her. _Oh no. Oh no. I should have just run away- but where is there to run to? I giant land of sand, where death by starvation is your fate._

The tools came out without a word, thrown onto the table as if they were nothing but playing cards. Gabriella felt the sweat spring up on her forehead.

"Are you going to kill my baby?"

No reply.

"Please-"

He pulled out a metal stick looking thing, and began to polish it. He was trying to close his ears to her words, but she could tell he was listening.

"Please, don't do this."

That was all she had left in her to say.

He asked her to lie on the bed. _Please, any god out there- anyone, please, help me._

"This is blasphemy," the doctor muttered. "But it must be done."

"No-" she hugged her knees to her chest. "Please- I'll give you anything!"

"What do you have that you could possibly offer me?" he said coolly. "The king will hang me if I do not do this. Can you save my life? I do not think so."

"Just tell him-" she paused. "Tell him you tried. That it didn't work. Please-"

He shook his head. "No, I have to do it. It would be treasonous not to."

The metal stick moved forward.

"NO!" Gabriella shrieked. "NO! NO! NO! In the name of the Sun god I forbid you to do it! I forbid you! It's sacrilege, murder, killing an innocent child! _Would you murder your child?_"

Her shrieks quieted, until only whimpers could be heard. "My baby… please…."

The doctor lowered his tools, and slowly put them away. Gabriella did not know how long she lay there, weeping like a small child, until the doctor spoke up from the other side of the room.

"If anyone asks, we tried all methods possible. Nothing worked." His voice was brisk, but his heart was full of pity. "No one will ever know. Stay here for the rest of the day, as if you were recovering."

Gabriella jumped out of bed. She grabbed his hand, and bowed over it reverently. She said nothing, but went back to the bed to sleep. Mental breakdowns are exhausting.

She rolled over to face the wall, tears of relief still streaming her face. The panic that had broken her mind was gone, and all that was left was the music of peace." Thank you, doctor."

"It's Simone," he said softly. "Call me Simone."

That was the last thing she heard before she fell into a deep sleep.

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_Dear Gabriella,_

_I understand from my physician that everything possible has been done, but the child still remains as healthy as ever. Upon consulting my head councilor, I have come to the conclusion that you are to stay in the palace until the baby is born. At this time, I will decide what to do with it. I hope you find your new rooms quite pleasant, as they are fit for a queen. ._

_Your Majesty,_

_The Fire King_

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**Author's note: Ladies and gents, sorry about the confusion. Our king here is a Fire King, as in burning things and anger. He is definitely not a Sun King, which is bright and full of warmth. If I ever screw those two titles up again, just call me on it :P**

**Thanks to my awesome reviewers : Italiangurlinamessedupworld, Francofile, Tree Top Royalty, Who-what-why, Usagimiyuki, and The Awesome.**

**Now, everything seems like its all good right now, and my summary- however short it is- seems to have given things away. And you may all have guessed what is going to happen- but know this, I am known to change my mind half way through my stories. A lot. So, here's my question of the night- and it could actually effect the way this story will go, so I wouldn't mind if everyone reviewed this back to me.**

**Which character, out of all of them, do you like best, and why? **

**Let me know,**

**-teardrop**


	6. Uncertainties

It was a perfect night for sneaking out. The moon was out, a thin crescent of one, hanging over the plush hills, the stars shone and her parents were having guests over. Again. All the more reason to leave home secretly and go to the usual meeting spot.

Isa was looking forward to seeing Mishel. It had been just over three years since their engagement, and lately they had tried to see each other almost every moon filled night. Walking hand in hand through the forest, climbing trees, skipping rocks, telling secrets- none of that had changed. But something, yes, something had changed between them. Maybe it was the way they held hands, or that his fingers sometimes ran across her skin, and left tracks of fire. Maybe it was the way they talked, so softly and quietly. Maybe it was how Mishel looked at her, how his eyes softened. Maybe, it was the way his arms held her close at every opportunity.

Everything was different now.

Mishel was waiting at the meeting spot, anticipating her arrival but not really expecting it. It was harder for Isa to sneak away than it was for him. He never knew when Isa was going to show up. He did not mind, every now and then, just sitting and watching the moonlight on the waterfall all by himself. But more often than not he ended up missing her terribly and wondering what she was up to. He hated those nights when all he could think of was Isa and yet, Isa was not there, could not or- in the case of moonless nights- would not be there with him. It made him restless and agitated, which often caused fights at home.

Isa approached his figure silently. Today he had brought a match and lit a fire to fend off the flies and mosquitoes. The flames lit up his thoughtful face, which had grown much more angular during the past two years. Mishel was eighteen now, at a perfect age for marriage. Isa tried not to think about that, but it was a topic that came up between her and Mishel time and time again.

_Crack._ Her careless foot had snapped a twig right in half. Mishel jumped up, his face austere- until he saw who it was, of course.

"Isa!" he smiled. "It's so late- I didn't think you were coming tonight."

Isa sat down on the rock, and Mishel sat beside her, so close that their legs were almost touching. Normally she would have shifted away, but strangely, she didn't feel like it tonight. While she was wrapped up in these confusing thoughts, Mishel continued to talk.

"Father mentioned planning the wedding again," Mishel was saying. "He says we need to marry soon; mother had a strange dream and they both believe it is a vision from the gods, showing them that bad times are coming."

"What did she dream?"

"Oh, some nonsense about shadows." Mishel smiled, showing his disbelief. Then, he said: "But don't worry about that. It's really up to you. When would you like to marry?"

"I don't really think it's up to us," Isa said, staring at the flames. "Our parents will do what they want, and we'll have to go along with it."

"That's not true. If you really didn't want to marry me, your parents wouldn't force you to." He took her hand and traced the lines on her palm, drawing her eyes to his. "You do want to marry me, Isa?"

A helpless feeling rose in her stomach, and into her heart. "I don't know, Mishel."

Right away she could tell that she had hurt him. The corners of his mouth pulled down, and his eyes cast downward, away from hers. The firelight flickered across his face, making his angled cheekbones stand out more than usual. Guilt spread through her stomach as she struggled for a way to take back the words she had blurted out. Finally, she decided to speak the truth.

"Mishel, I don't know if I'm ready to marry," Isa said, her eyes downcast as well. "What if I make a horrible wife, a horrible _mother_?" The edge placed on the word mother showed her obvious horror of what the future held for her.

Mishel held her hand tighter. "You will make a lovely wife," his eyes lifted, burning into hers. "_My_ lovely wife…"

Isa swallowed nervously as Mishel inched closer, and closer, until his lips touched hers. His arms wrapped around her protectively, hugging her close, so close.

When he finally pulled away, she simply sat, dazed at what Mishel had just done. He had kissed her before, of course, but never like that.

"Isabelle," he murmured, still holding both her hands. "You have nothing to worry about. But we do need to plan the wedding, very soon, before mother gets too antsy and tries to take over. When would you like to be wed?"

Isa hid her sweating hands in the folds of her skirt. "I guess, well, maybe a full moon night?"

Mishel nodded. It was customary to have a nighttime wedding in the great desert, simply because the sun was much to hot for the fancy clothing worn to such an event. And, because Isa was afraid of the dark, it only made sense to have a full moon on the night of their wedding.

He pulled Isa closer, hugging her loosely. "We'll have the wedding on the next full moon, then."

"So soon?" her voice was small.

Mishel nodded. "The rainy season will be coming soon." What were these lies, coming out of his mouth? "Any outdoor celebrations like weddings would be ruined if it rained…"

"Okay," Isa nodded, leaning her head against her shoulder.

As the couple sat, embraced, Mishel hid his worries behind a mask. What he was truly worried about was his mother's dream, so vivid he had been woken up by her screaming.

_"The shadow!" she had shrieked. "It's taken Isabelle!"_

His mother's prophetic dreams were usually right, and that was what scared him, scared him so much that he was willing to lie to his love in order to have her bound to him, under his roof of his own house, and under his protection. He could fight off any shadow out there- it was just air, right? Just dark colored air.

But if that shadow was the shadow of a man-

What if he could not save her?

^*^*^^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The wedding arrangements began straight away; whether or not her conversation with Mishel had been repeated to her parents, Isa did not know. All she did know was that both she and Keili were sharing the same dress, and Keili was getting married first.

Keili's wedding to the farmer nearby was to be a small arrangement; performed in the local church in the center of town. Everyone and anyone was welcome; however, everyone had to bring a dish of food, along with any useful household gifts they could spare for the bride. Isa suspected that her sister was more excited about the gifts than she was about her own marriage.

"Do you like him?" Isa asked Keili the night before her wedding. It would be the last night the two sisters would ever spend together. Isa was braiding Keili's hair, which was so long it touched her waist, where as Isa's hair barely reached the center of her back.

"Who?" Keili asked, preoccupied in her thoughts. "Oh, you mean Nolan? Well, he's nice, I guess."

"He's nice?" Isa asked, shocked. "That's it? Just nice? Don't you love him?"

"Of course not," Keili said. "I'm too young for love. But I know he'll take good care of me, and be a very good husband and buy me lots of pretty things."

Keili was smiling at her joke, Isa was not. "How can you marry someone you don't love?"

"Isa, sometimes I think you are way too naive," Keili tugged her hair from Isa's hands and finished braiding it herself. "Most marriages have nothing to do with love. The reason I'm marrying Nolan is so that father can have his help on the farm."

"I think marriage should be about love."

"Isa," Keili snapped. "You're marriage is a business deal. Dad gets a guaranteed vendor for the food we harvest." Keili got up and went to her bed. "Mother and Father don't care about whether we are in love, or happy. All they care about is the farm. That's it."

"That's not true," Isa argued weakly, but in her mind, she was uncertain. Perhaps what Keili said was right. Perhaps her parents did not care about her. After all, they hadn't told her she was adopted, not yet anyways…

"Isa, go to bed," Keili sounded tired. "I'm getting married tomorrow, and I don't want dark under eye circles on my wedding day."

Isa curled up under her blankets and tried to push her confusing thoughts into the back of her mind, but it was impossible.

Did she love Mishel? She thought she did, and she thought her parents knew that too.

If she asked them, would they call off the wedding? Would they care what she said? Would they care about her happiness? Or would they only care about the farm's well being?

These were questions left unanswered. Isa drifted off into an uneasy sleep, with uneasy dreams about a shadow, swallowing everything in its path…

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**Authors Note: Thanks to Italiangurlinamessedupworld, Usagi Miyuki, Tree Top Royalty, and Who-what-why. I'm sorry that this was a bit of filler, and for those who've read my other stories they know that I'm not into the mushy gushy thing…. but come on, they're in loooooooooooooooove :P hehe**

**Thanks for reading,**

**-teardrop**


	7. Gabriella and the Drunk King

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_Dear Gabriella,_

_I have heard rumors afoot that you have already named the baby and bought it clothes. Please do not waste your time or money on such a useless task, as the baby must be rid of almost immediately. The baby is a threat to the crown. An entire civil war could commence simply by its birth. Please understand that I am doing this out of necessity, not because I wish to._

_Do not try to escape. No matter where you run, we will find you. I will give you one day to nurse and love your baby, no more._

_The Fire King_

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The Fire King finished penning his message. Frowning slightly, he tossed the letter to his head advisor, Julith, who read over it eagerly. Nodding, Julith sealed the letter in an envelope and passed it to a page boy, who scampered off immediately. The two half brothers were seated in the King's study, and while the blue eyed King drank down the wine, the dark eyed Julith glanced over a map studiously, waiting for his king- and half brother- to speak.

"I feel as if I am being too harsh with her," the Fire King murmured, looking into his now empty glass.

"Too harsh?" Julith exclaimed. "Your majesty, pardon me, but you are not being harsh at all. You could have had her hung, or thrown her out into the desert. And yet, you did not."

"No," the Fire King allowed. "Once the baby is gone, I'd like to keep her as a mistress."

"Ah," Julith said. He smiled politely and sat down beside the King, who had poured himself another glass of wine. "She must be quite the lady."

The Fire King said nothing.

"Forget about her, your Majesty," Julith said. "We have more important things to worry about, such as taking over the islands-"

"Julith, I do not wish to take over the Ocean Islands," The King snapped. "I simply wish to buy some food from them. The air is so dry here that nothing grows, not even the banana trees planted in the gardens of the castle. And we need water."

"Which can all be very simply obtained by invading and taking over the islands," Julith pointed out, still smiling.

"No," The King said impatiently. "Our soldiers cannot possibly make it across the desert, not without a huge supply of water."

The King stood up and wandered over to the map. He stabbed his finger right onto the main island, where a castle had been artfully drawn. "They are too strong for us to attack, even with our knights at full health. They have hundreds of ships, thousands of knights and sailors, and the king- they say he talks to the fish in the sea. The very ocean could come up and swallow our entire army in one fell swoop."

"But, your highness, you could-"

"No, Julith," The King thundered. "We will _never _attack the Ocean Islands. We must make peace with them, and exchange our rare plants, animals and medicines for food. That is the only way."

"Of course," Julith stood up hastily. "I will make arrangements for you to communicate with the king right away."

"Go!" the King hissed, glaring at the back of Julith's head. "And don't you dare do anything to jeopardize this alliance!"

Julith turned around, bowed, and left the room silently. As soon as he rounded the corner, he punched the wall as hard as he could. "That stupid blathering idiot!" he hissed to himself. "Brother or not- one day he'll pay for treating me this way!"

Panting, he glared out down the servant's hallway.

"I should be king," he murmured, lowly. He would never be able to speak those words aloud, not without being convicted of high treason and burned at stake.

He could never be king, no. He was a half-blood, his father a servant, his mother a queen. He was the oldest, and yet he would never be able to sit on that thrown, never be able to wear the ring that allowed the King to control fire. It was completely, and utterly unfair.

Up ahead, a maid was hurrying down the hallway. Setting his pace, he followed her, eager to have a distraction from his murderous thoughts.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Up the winding alleyway, through the picturesque ballroom and up the grand staircase, there- in a room a little to the left- lay Gabriella, restless in her new life of luxury. Of course, it was nothing but a gilded cage; maids, who were entirely too faithful to the king, popped in and out, claiming to check up on her 'health'. Of course, they were just checking to see if she was in the room. If she had left the room, and they found out, they would call the guards. Gabriella should know, they had already done it to her once, when she had left the room in search of Reese.

Now Reese had to come to her, with special permission of course. A pregnant lady was not to be disturbed.

Gabriella resisted spitting on the floor. The taste of lies and hatred rang in her mouth, making life difficult to swallow day by day. In her hand, she clutched the letter sent to her just recently by the Fire King. Not for the first time, Gabriella wondered why she hadn't just gone into the great desert and taken her chances there. The outside world was probably better than life in the castle.

A soft knock came at the door, jumping Gabriella from her thoughts. She called out a greeting, her weak voice barely penetrating the door.

Not for the first time, Simone entered through the door. Simone visited her sometimes, which was a not so much a comfort as it should have been. Most of the time he kept silent, or simply checked up on the baby.

"Simone," Gabriella's voice cracked. She blinked away the tears. "Read this."

She handed the letter to him. When he was finished reading, he folded the letter and tucked it into one of her drawers.

"One day," Gabriella said, sounding hysterical. "One day! How cruel he is- let me love for one day, then take it all away!"

Simone's eyes looked sad. "You cannot disobey a King."

"The baby's coming soon, Simone! I can feel it. What am I going to do?"

Simone regarded her steadily. "Do you really want to keep this child?"

"Yes," Gabriella said. "I want my child. I need my child. I love him already!"

Simone surveyed her stomach. It was so large that Gabriella could not move from the bed.

"There's nothing _you _can do," Simone said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "You're watched all the time. And you must stay in bed till the baby comes- you risk injury if you stand up."

"There must be someone who can help me," her tears were gone, but her voice was still hoarse. "What about a noble?"

"What could you offer them? Money? You have none."

Gabriella stuck her chin out, but said nothing. Her pride stung like the prick of a bee, but what Simone said was indeed correct.

"Simone, do you know anyone who could help me?"

Simone did not want to ruin her hope, and so, he chose to say nothing concrete for the moment. "We shall see."

"I-"

A louder knock came at the door, and without so much as a greeting, the King flung the door open wide. His blue eyes were slightly bloodshot, and unfocused as he stumbled into the room.

"Simone," he bawled, eyes narrowed. "Get out."

Simone bowed quickly, and with one nervous glance at Gabriella, turned around and left.

"Gabriella," he approached her bed. Even from across the room, Gabriella could smell the alcohol on his breath. "When is that baby going to be born?"

She said nothing.

"Soon, I hope," he smiled, stumbling a bit before sitting down on the bed. "Then we can get rid of it, and get on with bedding. How does that sound?"

Frankly, Gabriella could not think of anything more horrifying.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but that will not be happening."

"Oh yes it will," his goofy smile pulled into a sneer. "I am King. I command it, and you will obey."

"My lord, I'd rather burn at the stake."

He froze for a second, his eyes calculating. Then his hand thrashed out towards her face, quick as lightning. Gabriella flinched back, and the end of his nail grazed her cheek. If he had been sober, the fist would have made full contact with her jaw.

"You will do as I say!" he thundered. "I will have the prettiest women for my bed, and that is final!"

Gabriella said nothing, just clutched her cheek in vain. How cowardly, to punch a pregnant woman!

"Fiery Gabriella," he sighed, his mood swinging yet again. This time he seemed sad. "You are so lovely, and yet you hate me. Why is that?"

Gabriella felt like screaming, tearing her face off, something- anything to get her out of this nightmare. To add to her horror, the King lifted his hand and reached towards her cheek, only to run a finger lightly across the scratch he had given her.

"Ah well," the King suddenly stood up, his hand dropping to his side. "You will change your mind, after the baby is gone!"

And, stumbling out of the room, he left a furious- and confused- Gabriella in his wake.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

**Author's note: Don't you just love moody drunks? **

**Thanks to: NovemberDreamer, Ihaconch, Usagi Miyuki, Tree Top Royalty, Porkypick, AzzieAna, and the Awesome. **

**Sorry I haven't updated in awhile- but the next few chapters are pretty epic, so I will update sooner! Anyways, let me know what you think of this chapter- and what you think Gabriella should do?**

**-Teardrop**


	8. Preperations

"I can't believe it."

"What?" Isa's mother peered at her in the cracked mirror. "That you're getting married?"

For the first time in Isa's entire life, she had been allowed in her parent's room. Her mother claimed that it was because she needed to do her hair, and would like Isa to watch. Isa knew better, though; her mother was planning on telling her something important, and she had a feeling she knew exactly what it was.

"Yeah," Isa said. Her neck ached a bit from sitting up so straight. It made her voice sound a bit strained. "It feels like three years has gone by in a blink of an eye!"

"Oh Isabelle," her mother sighed. "You've grown up much too fast."

"Mom, don't cry!" Isa turned a bit towards her mother, only to be slapped across the top of the head.

"Stay facing forward," her mother's voice cracked. "Your hair has to be perfect."

Isa stayed silent, and tried not to look at her mother's tears in the mirror. Isa could feel her mother's hand shaking, skipping across her head like a moth. "Mother, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she breathed. "I need to-I need to tell you something."

"What is it, mama?"

A long winded silence filled the room. "Nothing, Isabelle. I've forgotten what I was going to say."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," her mother took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Yes, I just can't remember. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Isa reassured her. "Tell me when you remember, okay?"

"Alright."

^*^*^^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Mishel was nervous, to say the least.

He pulled at his ceremonial robes uncertainly. They were black, which was an unusual color for the desert region, with a crisp gold stitching lining the edges. His father had placed a single gold hoop in his right ear, and had painted the sun god's emblem on his left cheek- the phoenix, a long tailed bird breathing flame.

"Relax," Mishel told himself. He would be seeing Isa very soon, for the first part of their wedding was coming up very fast, judging by the suns location. Once the sun set, both he and Isa were to meet at the Sun God's temple, just up the mountain. They would meditate together until the moon reached its highest point, then proceed to their wedding place- Mishel's backyard.

They were to be wed that very night. Finally, he could hold Isa in his arms and not feel ashamed of himself for ruining her reputation. Finally, she would be under his protection, shielded from the cruelties and shadows that haunted the outside world. It made him proud, knowing he was now responsible for her- and at the same time, very, very afraid.

Whispers of doubt had been creeping through the town lately. The King was sick, some said. Others said he was dying, or even dead. No one was certain of anything. And if the King did die, well, he had no heir. What would happen to them? What would happen to him, and to Isa?

No, nothing was certain anymore. Nothing but Mishel's heart, which he could always trust. Right then, his heart was telling him to ignore the gossip and focus on his bride, who was waiting for him up in Menore's Temple.

His parents wished him goodbye, and he began his trek through the village. The streets were full and bustling, as they always were at sunset. Slowing down, he paused to admire a married couple, shopping for food up ahead. Soon, he and Isa would do that too. The thought made him smile.

"Out of my way!" a yell sprung through the chattering of the crowd, slicing into Mishel's peaceful thoughts. "Get out of my way, you filthy villagers!"

Mishel dove to the side just as a group of horsemen stormed by. Knights, by the look of their red and gold robes. The only time this village ever saw knights was around tax time, right before the rainy season; they still had a month of so to go. It was no wonder that everyone trailed after them, muttering and cursing. Had they come to collect their taxes early? If so, no one was prepared.

_Whatever it is that they are up to, no doubt they are off to visit the chief,_ Mishel thought, frowning. He glanced up at the beginning tinge of the sunset- he had a few moments to spare. Hitching up his robes slightly, he followed the rest of the crowd towards the main square of the village.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^

Isa shut the door quietly behind her, and set off. She had a long way to go; the sun temple was at the very top of the highest hill by the village. It would not surprise her if it took her until dusk to reach there, which would be a violation of the marriage ceremony. She had wanted to leave ages ago, but her family had kept her occupied. Sighing, she touched the flowers Zander had placed on her head.

"Did you find your treasure, Isa?" he had asked, softly.

"Yes," she glanced up at Zander from her spot on the bed. Her white laced dress did her dark complexion justice, or so Zander thought.

"I am not your true blood sister."

Zander paused, nodding. "Perhaps not. But you're still my true sister, whether blood ties us together or not."

Isa played with the flowers in her hair. Sun Lilies sprinkled white pollen over her dark hair and face, making her sneeze loudly. "You knew?"

"Your eyes, Isa. They're what told me you were different."

"I hate my eyes," she said venomously. "You knew all along, didn't you? And you didn't tell me?!"

"Isa," Zander stood up slowly. "It was a feeling I had, I didn't know for certain. Now, don't get all angry on me. It's your wedding day. You should feel enlightened and happy, glowing even."

"I feel nothing short of awful," Isa snapped. "My whole family has betrayed me."

"Isa, Why does it matter?" Zander begged. "We still love you for who you are!"

"For who I am?" Isa was outraged. "Do you know who I am? I'm an unwanted child. My father hated me so much that he wanted me dead. Dead!"

"Isa, calm down!"

"_No!"_ Isa shrieked. "I will not calm down. I'm getting married and _I don't even know who I am!"_

Zander stood up and made his way towards the door. "Well, with that attitude, I guess you'll never find out."

Then, in his weird graceful way, he disappeared.

After punching her pallet a few times, she felt her heartbeat calm down a little, and bit by bit, her temper calmed down as well. _Isabelle, you are getting married today. Isa, Mishel is waiting for you. Go to him. Don't think about any of this, just think about him. _

And that is just what she did.

Following the creek for a ways, Isa tried to calm her shaken nerves. Over and over she repeated her vows, making sure she had memorized every bit of it. She wondered if Mishel felt as nervous as her, and what he was thinking. Soon enough, they would share everything, even something as private as their thoughts, no to mention their bed…

A rustle in the bush to her right startled her from her dreamlike state. Isa's neck prickled as the rustling grew louder, and louder.

"Mishel?" Isa asked, uncertain. The rustling stopped, but that did not help her nervousness. She drew a few deep breaths to calm herself, then tried again. "Mishel?"

Suddenly, she was grabbed from behind, a slender hand muffling her scream.

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**Authors note: **Oh yes, I went there. The dreaded cliff hanger. And, as for those people who know me, this is generally when everything starts to pick up, and characters start…. Uh… disappearing. Heh.

Thank you to all my reviewers! I have no energy to dig your names up right now because it is past midnight. BUT I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much for reviewing, and I'm so sorry I took so long. On the bright side of life, my next chapter is already finished and will be up by the end of this weekend.

-Teardrop


	9. Simone's Plan

The room was stifling hot, so hot she could not breathe, let alone muster the strength to get up out of bed to summon a maid. Her mind was a haze of confused thoughts, a deep blur that filled her senses. Gabriella held onto one thread of thought in vain, struggling to think. Yes, there- she had it.

The baby was coming.

"Simone!" she shrieked. "Reese! Somebody! _The baby is coming!"_

A frightened maid who had fallen asleep by the fire sprang up, and scurried off down the hallway. Gabriella hoped that she was fetching Simone, not informing the King of her current announcement.

Gabriella felt a realization just then- yes, the baby was coming, and she still had not figured out a way to get it- and herself- to safety.

She fought down the urge to cry from sheer frustration. Why was she not more prepared? What a horrible mother she was, and the baby was not even born yet! Gabriella cursed at the bedroom loudly, throwing anything and everything within reach.

"God dammit, curse that bastard of a King!" she howled, her eyesight blurring as pain shot up her body. The baby wanted out. Where was Simone when she needed him?

"The baby is coming!" Gabriella shrieked as another wave of pain came over her. "Get me a doctor! Get me Simone!"

The door was flung open by Simone and Reese, who was carrying a basin full of water.

"Gabriella!" Simone threw his tool kit on the floor and started pulling out things like towels and herbs that Gabriella did not recognize. "Hold on!

Reese placed the basin on the desk and rushed to the bed, where Simone showed her how she was to hold Gabriella during the birth.

Gabriella shrieked very loudly, a blood curling cry. Then she collapsed on the bed, exhausted from the pain that coursed through her.

"This baby is coming _now!" _she shrieked. "SIMONE!"

Reese, frightened by the woman's yells, flinched away, letting go of her hold on Gabriella's arms.

"GRAB HER ARMS!" Simone yelled, as Gabriella thrashed.

Reese grabbed her arms and pinned them to her sides while the doctor did his thing- she tried not to look. Gabriella's thrashes grew more wild and intense every second- and it certainly didn't help that Simone was poking and prodding around down there either.

Simone suddenly cursed loudly. "There's two of them!"

"_What_?" Reese shrieked. Gabriella was in so much pain, she was beyond caring.

"Twins! She's going to have twins!"

Half and hour of shrieks passed by, so fast that Reese could not recall when, exactly, the babies came out. Was it at night, or just as the sun began to rise? Either way, after one last scream, the babies worked their way out, screaming and very much alive.

Reese wrinkled her nose at the smell. The two babies were pink and sticky. They were probably the most disgusting thing she had ever seen. Reese had once imagined that the miracle of life was all pretty butterflies and rainbows. Alas, more proof to show how innocent she was. It made her feel ignorant and small.

Gabriella collapsed on the bed, panting. Simone buzzed around her, doing this and that. Reese grabbed the babies, trying to wrestle them both her arms. They were both crying, which was a good sign. Better to be crying than not breathing at all.

"Wash them," Simone said, pointing at the two infants. Reese set one of them on the bed and washed the other one quickly. It was a boy, and already it had a few sprigs of dark hair on its head. Reese passed him to Simone, who swaddled him up tight. The other baby was a girl, and was completely bald. But other than that, she was almost identical to her twin brother. Not that she could really tell, both babies had their eyes completely shut.

"Simone," Reese asked, panicked. "Are their eyes supposed to be closed, even when they're awake?"

"Yes," Simone said absently, still cleaning up Gabriella. "They'll be closed for the next week or so… Have you washed them yet? Hurry up. They're hungry."

Reese washed the wailing child quickly, and then swaddled it into a blanket. She then offered the baby to Gabriella, who was now propped up against some pillows. Exhausted, Gabriella barely had the energy to hold her own children, so Reese sat close to her and helped her hold them.

Gabriella looked at them through her sweat soaked hair and smiled. They had both dozed off, tired from crying. She glanced up from her babies to Simone, who stood nearby. He offered her a glass of something hot, which she promptly tipped down her throat.

"Gabriella," Reese was delighted with the children, who were now clean, happy and full of their mother's milk. She held one of the baby's small fists loosely between two fingers. "They're beautiful! What will you call them?"

"I-" her eyebrow creased. "I don't know."

"You haven't chosen a name?"

Gabriella stayed silent. The truth was, she had not thought to think up names because she knew that her baby -babies- would be taken away from her, and to give them names would just lead to more heartbreak. Suddenly, the happy, relieved mood Gabriella had experienced was exchanged for a depressing one.

"Gabriella, rest now," Simone said calmly, seeing the panic on her face. "Reese and I will take care of the children. Do not worry about anything right now."

"Simone," Gabriella's eyes started to water. "We have to save them. What are we going to do?"

"Gabriella," Simone said. "Go to sleep. I have thought of something."

"Thank the gods," she offered a weak smile. "Thank _you_, Simone."

"Sleep," he said softly. Her head fell back, and within seconds she fell into a deep sleep.

After the babes were tucked into a crib, Reese dared to question Simone. "You have a plan?"

Simone sat down in one of the chairs close to the fireplace. He said nothing for a second, simply staring into the flickering flames. "We can save one child."

"How are we going to do that?" Reese asked.

Simone glanced up at her. "_You_ can save one child."

Reese was taken aback. "Me?"

"Yes," Simone nodded. "I have some medicine that will keep the baby asleep when we need it to be quiet. What you must do is hide the baby in a basket full of food, then claim that you are headed to the Ocean Islands, with the peacekeepers who are being sent to negotiate a treaty with the King that rules there"

Realization dawned on her. "They'll think I'm one of the maids hired to take care of the nobles sent on this peacekeeping mission."

Simone nodded. "You will also be given a horse, which you will use to escape on the very first night. The sleeping medication will not last more than a days worth of hours, and we cannot risk the baby crying and alerting the peacekeepers of your secret."

"You want me to flee with the baby in the desert?" Reese looked as if she was going to faint. "You've heard the stories- the desert is so huge, you can wander for days and days and never reach the hills that surround this place!"

"That is what the King would like his followers to believe. However, if you ride towards the west by night, and rest during the day, it will only take you three nights to reach the hills, and the villages that can be found there. Leave the baby with a family who will care for it, and ride back as soon as you can."

"How do you know that?"

"I was a traveler myself, once."

Reese was desperate. The one thing she was most afraid of in this lifetime was getting lost in the desert.

"Lady Monica will know that I am gone!"

"I will make up a sickness for Lady Monica," Simone said calmly. "Now take the baby and go."

Reese hesitated. "What if I'm caught?"

"If you don't go, they will both die."

Reese glanced over at their sleeping faces. So young and innocent. How could she commit them to death?

Reluctantly, she nodded. "Can't I save both of them?"

Simone shook his head sadly. "Since the King has no clue that Gabriella has twins, he will be expecting one child, not two. If there is no child in this room when he visits day after tomorrow, he will surely go on a rampage. Gabriella will most certainly be executed for treason, as will I."

"And me," Reese whispered. She felt a piece of her innocence float away from her softly. "Which one should I take?"

They both paused uncertainly. Reese's words held a hidden question: _Which one should die?_

Simone picked up a sleeping baby and thrust it into her arms. Then he pulled out a bottle from his bag and held it up to the light. It looked like ordinary water to her, save for the few sprigs of herb floating in the bottle. "Give it a sip of this bottle, and it will sleep for hours."

Reese nodded and tucked the bottle in beside the baby. Simone handed her some milk, and then she was off, down the servant's hallway as quietly as possible.

*^*^^*^*^*^*^*^*^

There were points in Gabriella's life where she wondered just how sane she was. This was one of them.

As she held her baby close, she felt a certain nagging in the back of her mind, telling her that something just was not quite right. Simone was watching her steadily from across the room, wondering when she was going to ask the inevitable question.

"Simone," Gabriella said. He braced himself mentally. "This is going to sound strange, but I thought I had _two_ babies."

The two adults regarded each other wearily. "I'm sorry, Gabriella, but you only had one child."

"But I could have sworn-"

"It was a difficult birth," Simone said calmly. "You were in a lot of pain. It wouldn't surprise me if you saw double, or even started to hallucinate."

Gabriella regarded him for a minute, then nodded. Simone was a doctor, he knew what he was talking about. Gabriella patted her baby's head as he gurgled happily.

"Are you going to give your baby a name?"

Gabriella tickled his chin and he chirped happily. "No."

Then, without warning, she started to cry. Her tears poured down onto her baby, getting caught on his rolls of fat and in his long eyelashes. For once, the baby lay silent.

"I-I'm a horrible mother," she cried. "I thought I c-could save him, but there are maids and g-guards everywhere, outside the room, along the hallway, outside my w-window. I-I thought I could save him, b-but I-I-I just _can't!_"

"Gabriella-"

"W-why didn't I just run away? Throw myself off the tallest tower? That would have been a better fate than this!" She was shrieking now, and the baby was wailing. "Oh dear Menore, dear Sun God- help me protect this child, your sun child…"

Her shrieks drifted into murmurs, which eventually trickled into sad, lonely silence. Simone, meanwhile, was still calmly sitting at the desk, observing Gabriella. Finally, after a long moment of silence- save for the babes wailing- he stood up and made his way over to where she was sitting. He patted her back reassuringly.

"There is still hope," he said quietly. "If there is one man who hates the Fire King, it is Julith, his advisor."

"How will that help me?" Gabriella asked hollowly.

"He will do anything to spite the King," Simone said. "If we can make a deal with him-"

"What kind of deal, Simone?" her reply was desperately disbelieving. "What would he want with a lowly maid like me?"

"Just speak with him. It might be worth a try."

Her no name baby had fallen into a deep sleep in her arms, which was so adorable it made her heart hurt.

Gabriella lifted her head slightly. "What must I do?"

"Wash yourself up, put on a gown and go talk with him," Simone said. "I will watch the baby while you are gone."

Gabriella hesitated. Was it really worth it, she wondered. Then, looking down at her sleeping baby, she decided that it really, really was.

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**Authors note: ** see I told you I'd update quick! Now, I'm sorry if you think the last few chapters have been filler, but believe me, there's important information in every one of those. Now, we come to the action!

Thanks to: Katarina H. , Tree Top Royalty, shelike-poisonivy, porkypick, remdog416, , voguish girl, Ori Lee, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, the Awesome and AzzieAna. Thank you thank you thak you! It's your helpful and encouraging reviews that keep this story going, believe me. I'm so busy that It's hard to just sit and write a little bit every day.

Now, I know you're all excited for the next chapter, but it's going to take awhile to get it up. I'll try to get it up by Wednesday, but I make no guarantees.

-Teardrop


	10. The Hunt

Mishel threw himself up the mountain, searching frantically. His body fell heavier with dread each step he took. In his mind, he replayed the events in the main square over and over again.

_The soldiers had drawn their swords threateningly, keeping them pointed at the ground but still firmly in their grip. The crowd of villagers began to whisper uneasily. Everyone was nervous- why were these soldiers here?_

_The chief ascended the stairs to the wooden platform, on which the soldiers now stood. His face was old and wrinkled, but his eyes were wise. He knew the politics of this land, he would protect his villagers. The crowd stared up at him with respect, and hope. He could make the soldiers leave. _

"_Why has his majesty sent you to us at such an early time?" the chief asked, his booming voice floating over the crowd. He sounded neither upset nor overjoyed. His tone was more weary than anything. _

"_The Fire King is dead!" One soldier yelled. His eyes betrayed nothing, no sadness, no fear. This was all simply a job to him. "A new king has taken his place. His most Royal Majesty greets his subjects, and has issued a public order."_

_The crowd was shocked. The King was dead? And how could there possibly be a new king so quick, when there was never a heir in the first place? The murmuring grew louder and louder, until it reached a din that hurt Mishel's ears. _

"_**Silence!"**__ The chief yelled, and everyone went quiet. Mishel began to slip away from the edge of the crowd. Whatever this new command was, it would probably start something he did not want to be apart of. At it's best, it would turn into a long, tedious debate. At it's worst, a hole riot could ensue. Judging by the sinister looks on the knights' faces, Mishel was betting the latter. _

"_The new King had issued a public order," the knight repeated, dark eyes emotionless. From a scroll, he read: "By the command of his most Royal Highness, all women between the ages of fifteen and seventeen are to be inspected and, if appropriate, brought to the palace immediately. If a family chooses to ignore this command, the entire village will answer to the Court of Justice and Treason. Soldiers have full permission to search houses if needed. In Menora's name, so will this command be followed."_

_Mishel glanced behind him as he ran. The soldiers were surrounding the crowd, forcing them with their weapons to stay in one spot. More knights streamed in from the woods, pouring in like water into a drowning person's open mouth. They pushed through people's doors, searching for the women. Mishel kept running until he could not see anything more, but he could still hear the screams of the women who were being violently pulled from their homes. _

The trees whispered to him silently.

It's too late.

"Isabelle!" he yelled, his eyes squinting in the fading sunlight. "Isa!"

Only the silence of the trees answered him. How could he have left her alone like that, while such horrible commands were being tossed around the town? When he had heard the latest orders, he could taste the fear in his mouth, sour and thick. This was it- this was the shadow of his mother's dreams. The shadow that had swallowed Isa whole.

"Isa!" his cries were desperate now, his eyes wild. He tripped over a log and slammed into the ground, rolling onto his back. His breathing slowed as he stared up at the sky. The forest was so vast- it made him feel so very small and hopeless. She could be anywhere, everywhere. The thought of searching the entire forest for his bride was overwhelming, but Mishel did not care. It was not even a choice, really. He _had_ to find her.

Mishel tried to think logically; there were a few trails that led up the mountain, but that was it. The only landmark for miles would be Menora's temple, which Isa had probably taken shelter in due to the lack of sunlight. If the soldiers had not caught her, that was where she would be.

A small ray of hope lit within him. Maybe the soldiers hadn't reached the temple yet. Maybe Isa was safe and sound, alone and wondering where he was.

Breathing hard, Mishel struggled to his feet and continued his mad dash up the mountain, all the while still calling for his bride. Leaves flashed by in slow motion as he ran; the desert was against him, making his feet slow down. Never mind that- the entire world was against him, and was making time slow down, so slow he could almost count his frantic heartbeats.

Finally he reached the very top. Stumbling into the temple entranceway, his wild eyes scanned the temple frantically. "Isabelle?"

There was nothing, save for some dead flowers lying at the statues' feet.

Mishel felt his heart skip a beat. A terrible sensation came over him, one that he was not familiar with. His skin shivered and shook, his eyes wide and frantic. For once in his life, Mishel felt the cold touch of true fear.

With a wordless cry, Mishel lurched out of the temple and tumbled back down the hill, towards the village, towards the horrible men who had taken his bride.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^*^*^*^

"I'll let go if you say you won't scream."

Isa nodded, staring up at the slight woman. Her raven hair fell to her waist, but her curtain of hair could not cover her fear. Isa relaxed slightly. The woman was just as shaken as she was. That was not to say that she was to be trusted, however.

"Why did you grab me?" was Isa's first, and most highly unoriginal, question.

"I've come to warn you."

Isa surveyed the woman wearily. "About what?"

"The soldiers."

"What soldiers?"

"They're looking for you," the woman's voice dropped to a whisper. "You have to run. Hide in this forest for awhile."

"Why would they be looking for _me?_"

The woman gave her a look that said it all. "You know why."

"Why?"

"Didn't your parents show you the letters?"

Isa was shocked, to say the least. How did this woman know about the letters? Was she a spy, sent out by her father to kill her? She decided to play dumb, and kept silent.

The woman's eyebrows lifted slightly when Isa said nothing. "Never mind, you don't need to know. Just run, and hide. Hide well, up in the trees. Otherwise they will find you, and we'll all be doomed."

"They're going to capture me? Why?"

In the distance, hoof beats could be heard, like a low rumbling of thunder. They were quite a ways away, but Isa could tell that they were getting closer. Her heart started to pound and her stomach twisted into a knot. Her voice grew louder, angrier "Why do the soldiers want me? Tell me!"

"Listen, we don't have time for this!" the woman leaped up and grabbed her hand, tugging her up with her. "We have to run!"

"Tell me what's going on," Isabelle demanded. "I won't move from this spot until you do."

"The soldiers will take you away, along with the rest!" the woman pulled at her arm frantically. A loud yell from somewhere in the forest made Isa jump, and suddenly, both girls were running.

Through the trees, over the creek, up the hill- away they ran, like two startled deer running from a griffin. Isa ran behind the strange woman, her eyes focused on her back. Her mind was so clouded with fear that she could not think, could not even stop to nurse the cramp in her side. Her only thought was pure instinct; run, it said. Run fast, and keep running. Follow the woman. She knows where the safety is.

Just keep running.

They soon passed Menora's temple, but that whizzed by in a flash. She vaguely felt a pang in her heart as they passed it by, and a name flashed into her mind;

_Mishel._

The thought disappeared quickly though. Adrenaline tried to take over as her body started to fail, her footsteps started to falter, her breathing grew ragged. Unfortunately, her adrenaline started to fail slowly, slamming her soul back into place. All at once, every ache in her body hit her, making her stumble and falter.

"Wait!" she begged to the woman as she fell behind. The woman did not even look back as they ran, and Isa realized that her voice was so hoarse that there was no way the woman could have heard her.

Suddenly, her body was thrown to the ground, face first. Her dress had caught on a tree or something of a sort. It did not matter- what mattered was that she was no longer running, which was a terrible thing. Her face stung with fresh scratches, her arms ached from taking all her weight, and her leg bled openly from a gash on her right ankle.

She glanced around; the woman was long gone. Not only that, but the sun was gone as well, and the darkness pressed down on her. The hoof beats were getting closer- how had they gotten up the hill so fast?

Whimpering, Isa tried not to cry at the helplessness of it all. Why did they want her, anyway? Wasn't she supposed to be dead? How did they even know that she existed?

Isa lurched to her feet, and pulled her dress free. Stumbling, she limped into the woods.

_Just keep running. _

When the two men dressed in scarlet garb stepped out of the shadows, Isa knew that it was too late.

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**Author's note: **Hey guys! Look, I updated quickly! Why don't you show your appreciation by reviewing, hmm? I'd like to reach the 100 reviews mark with this story, but so far it isn't happening…

I'd like to apologize for the typos in the last two chapters. I have this rule where I review everything at least three times, but I haven't had time to do that lately.

Yes, I know it's another cliffie. The action picks up starting now, though.

Let me know what you think of this chapter. I know it seems like filler, but there's a few key things here that are important. (I know, I always say that. But it's completely true!)

Thanks to:

AzzieAna, The Awesome, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, , and porkypick.


	11. Puzzle Piece

Julith was angry.

But then, when was he _not _angry? There was always something that decided to make his life miserable. Most times it was the King, and his stubborn, foolish commands that made Julith so- so-_ infuriated_.

For instance, this morning had started out entirely pleasant, until he had received a command from his Majesty, delivered by a scared page boy, who received a blow to the head for his pains. The letter had commanded him to 'dispose' of some maid's child, the bastard child.

Enfuriated, Julith had charged into the King's chambers, demanding that he call down his order.

"What is the matter, Julith?" the king had sneered from his bed. "Can you not handle one small babe?"

Julith clenched his fists tightly as he recalled the King's words. The selfish idiot- he knew why Julith had a problem with this task. He knew that Julith was a royal bastard himself, and that killing a poor half blooded child would be a blow to his pride. It would be like announcing that half blooded people were like cattle- only good for the slaughter house. It was committing the lowest of the low, to kill a child who was in exactly the same scenario as he was.

Julith felt his outrage boil once more, bringing a flush to his cheeks. He picked up his chair and threw it at the wall, smashing it into hundreds of splinters. "How dare he!" Julith shrieked. "How dare he insult me!"

Panting, he stood staring at the mess of paint flakes and wood splinters. His mind raced with treasonous thoughts. How could they not, after such an insult? And as his mind raced, and raced, it finally came to a standstill on a single, incredible idea.

He would take the bastard child to the physician. But, instead of allowing the physician to administer death, he would bribe him into silence and take the child away to his personal palace. There, the child would live and grow, and once the child reached a certain age- as was required by law- Julith would bring him forward with an entire army to take the crown from his spiteful half-brother. Julith could then 'advise' the child on his political decisions. And, in an indirect way, Julith would become king.

Julith frowned at his plan. There had to be an easier way to force his plan through. An army was too messy, too cruel, and would cause the population of nobles and peasants alike to question the child's authority. Perhaps if he could get rid of the king another way, things for the child would go smoother. The puzzle he was making was missing a piece, and he could not quite figure out just what that piece was.

A sudden knock at the door sprang him from his thoughts. He brushed himself off, lifted his chin and answered the door.

"Your grace." The maid at the door curtsied. She looked a mess, with her hair soaked in sweat and her clothing wrinkled. But she still had a certain beauty about her that made him look twice. "I have come here to ask a favor."

Julith smirked. "And how may a noble such as myself help such a low-life maid such as you?"

The maid flinched openly, but there was a fire in her eyes that Julith immediately felt drawn to. This was a woman who would fight until the end. "I need you to save my baby."

Julith's smirk widened into a sinister smile. So this was the king's latest plaything. "Of course, please come in."

Here was the piece of the puzzle that was missing. The king wished to keep this maid in his bed. Judging by her apparent youth and beauty, he would probably keep her for a long time. Perhaps long enough for the child to grow into a man. A king needed a confidant he could trust, and a lowly maid such as this- who could be scared into silence, and who would not be expected to offer any sort of informed criticism-, would make a valuable and trustworthy confidant indeed.

This maid, he knew, would do anything for her baby. She had a desperation about her that told him so. The way she held her chin up told him she was filled with pride. And this pride, this intelligence, would keep her from being entirely faithful to her king, as he would never see her as more than a plaything, a maid.

Julith also knew that a desperate mother would do anything for her child, as his mother had done for him. This maid would do anything; even commit treason, to keep her baby alive and safe, of that much he was certain.

_Dear Gabriella,_

_I understand that the baby has been taken care of. Your status as a maid is no longer valid; therefore, I have allowed you the honor of the position as the King's mistress for the present._

_ This is a royal command, not a request. If you refuse, you shall be hung on the terms of treason. _

_Regards,_

_His Royal Majesty_

_King Salimor_

**Author's note: Hey guys, I know this is such a random update, right? Thanks for all my reviewers, I will try to keep updating but school makes things very difficult. If you guys need a brief recap, I suggest reading the previous two chapters, the first one is Gabriella's story, the next one is Isa's**

**-teardrop**


	12. Captive

_They dragged her through the streets, pulling her by the shoulders. It hurt, but not as much as the strange muted silence that filled her ears. She could see people screaming; she could feel the cold touch of the knights' hands; she could smell the smoke from the burning sticks the soldiers were using to fend off the villagers. And yet, she could not hear a single thing, except for the rapid beat of her heart. _

_The knights dragged her along, pulling her towards the wagon where the other girls were waiting. There were twenty of them in total, and all were badly bruised from trying to fight. Each girl called to their family, their friends, their lovers, but it did not make a difference. There was nothing that could save them._

_Isabelle looked back, scanning the screaming crowd. She could see one tall figure pushing his way through. She could see his lips forming her name, and she reached towards him. She could almost feel his fingers touch hers-_

Isabelle woke suddenly, trying not to cry out in pain. The other girls had fallen asleep, tired from their weeping.

Isa's stomach growled loudly, causing one girl to stir. She had been fasting her entire wedding day, and was supposed to break fast with the wedding guests early in the morning, just before the sun rose. She felt her heart tighten inside her breast. She was supposed to be a married woman this day, and here she was, in an unwelcome cage, surrounded by strangers. Her eyes remained dry, as she was not sad. Sadness was not Isabelle's way. On the contrary, she was absolutely furious. So furious her eyesight began to blur at the edges, and her heart pounded in her ears. She hit the ground silently with her fists, beating it down. She hit it until her eyes began to clear, and her fury fade into exhaustion. She lay her head on the ground, cheek turned to the side, and tried to pretend that she was laying on a soft bed, held safely in Mishel's arms. Her eyes drooped and she fell back into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of what could have been.

At sunset the soldiers rounded up the girls and bound them in shackles, forcing them to walk alongside the horses and wagons. The wagons, apparently, were kept for girls who 'caused trouble'. As far as Isa could tell, only the prettiest girls were forced to go in there, and the noises that came out of those wagons- Isa could not bear to think of it.

Luckily for Isa, her wedding dress was in tatters from her sprint through the woods, and coated in mud. Her hair was stringy from sweat, and her mother's precious jewels she kept tucked into her bodice, where hopefully no one would find them. She was short and blended into the crowd well. As long as no one saw her eyes, she would be unremarkable, and therefore avoid the fate of the wagon girls.

The wagons were also used for new arrivals, girls who were recently captured, to muffle their sobs as the group wandered through the countryside.

The girls were given a small piece of bread to eat every night, and a ladle of water twice per day. Just enough to keep them from starving, but not enough to keep many of the girls from getting sick. A deep lung cough had started up in the group, which made breathing very difficult for many of the girls. As a result, the group was very slow going. Isa overheard one soldier complaining: "At this rate, it'll take us weeks to reach the palace."

Isa wished she had the courage to speak up, for every girl was wondering the same thing: why were they going to the palace? But Isa knew she had to keep her head down. Mishel was not here to defend her now; she must fend for herself. She must make it to the palace. Perhaps there she could explain who she was, and they would let her go.

The chances of an escape were highly unlikely, as the girls were constantly surrounded by soldiers. Soon, their group would pass into the desert, and then there would truly be nowhere to go. The fate of a lone wanderer in the desert was death by thirst, a fate no girl- not even the boldest- wished to experience.

Isa overheard another soldier's mutterings later during their super. Through a mouthful, he told his partner "Should've just had the new king ride through the villages himself. Would've spared us a whole lot a trouble."

Isa frowned. What had the soldier meant by 'new' king? Was there another king now? Was he looking for someone? A wife, perhaps? But then, if he was looking for a wife, why would he not look himself, and why would the girls be treated so poorly? Were they to be taken as slaves? Was that the answer?

A rough voice startled her from her thoughts.

"You, girl. The meal is over. Get up." A soldier kicked her so hard she fell to the ground, her nose banging against the packed dirt. Blood coursed down her face as she lay on the ground. She felt the rage take over, and let it carry her on a wave straight into an ocean of unreason.

"You," Isa said lowly, her eyes still firmly planted on the ground. She sat up, and spat on his boot. "Your mother would loath the day you were born if she saw you at this moment."

The soldier kicked her again in fury, then reached down and picked her up by the shoulders. Isa fought like a wildcat, but the man's strength was too great. The soldier gripped her arms so tight Isa yelped in pain. She turned her face away as he brought his face very close to hers.

"Bitch," he spat, his spittle landing on her cheek. He slapped her hard, and then threw her into the dreaded wagon.

He clambered in after her, and she flung herself away from him. Heart pounding, hands sweating, harsh breathing- she dragged herself as far as she could. And screamed, as loud as she could-

"If you touch me, I will lay a curse on your family. By the hands of Dune, the god of shadows, every member of your family shall suffer as I suffer in your hands. So help me god-"

"Silence," the man said, still furious. He grabbed her arms and picked her up, throwing his weight on her until she was barely able to breathe, sandwiched between wall and man. "I shall have my way with you, you filthy wench!"

Isa fought as hard as she could. "Dune shall condemn you-"

"The gods have turned their backs on you, bitch," the soldier sneered, his teeth gleaming in the semi dark. "So have your parents, and your brothers and sisters, and of course-" his smile grew more sinister. "Your lover."

Isa's voice raised a pitch. "Curse on your mother, your sister, and your daughter, if you-"

"No one can save you," the soldier pressed against her harder. Isa could not speak anymore, for she could not breathe. "Everyone will forget about you. You are nothing, girl."

Isa felt rage pile in her stomach as the soldier groped her roughly, tearing at her flesh with his teeth. Her vision grew clouded, sparks lit her eyes until she could not think, or feel. She wrenched her hand from the wall and pushed her palm against his chest, as if by strength of sheer will, she could move him.

"Curse you," she hissed. Then, as if struck by the hand of Dune himself, the soldier jumped away from her, a string of curses leaving his mouth as he did so. He clutched his chest, a look of surprise and panic in his grimy eyes. As he removed his hands from his chest, Isa could see a small singed mark in the very center-

Her palm.

Her palm had burned through his shirt.

Isa glanced at her hands in wonder, but did not question it. She had called upon Dune to protect her, and he had answered.

"Dune has spoken." She said calmly, allowing her eyes to drift back to the ground.

The soldier, still wide eyed, backed out of the wagon, leaving the doors wide open. Calmly, Isa stepped outside and went to stand with the rest of the girls, who avoided her eyes immediately. They all thought she had suffered the same fate as the other wagon girls.

Isa shivered. She hoped the soldier was too afraid to mention the odd incident to anyone else. An event like that was bound to draw attention to her.

Her objective was now clear: make it to the palace unscathed, and then perhaps there she could use her mother's jewels to bribe her way out. For deep down in her heart, she knew that whatever lay inside the castle would not be welcoming for her, whether she proclaimed herself as a peasant or as more. Deep down, she knew that if she was discovered, it would mean certain death.

* * *

Deep inside Isa's village, everything was still in chaos. Only this time, the chaos was created by the villagers themselves. All men whose wives, daughters, and friends had been taken had rallied together, hoping that through alliance, they could band together and rescue their loved ones.

The idea in itself was good; the reality was not.

'Ideally,' Mishel thought to himself, 'we would all be marching this moment towards other villages to gather support, then head to the castle.'

In reality, half the men were not willing to cross the desert with so little water; the other half wished to go straight to the castle immediately. The result was utter chaos, and their chief could not even begin to form order in such a din.

As Mishel stood at the back of the crowd, he decided that he must take action. He needed to help Isa escape somehow, for the castle was a dangerous place for her. Mishel had heard rumors that the king was looking for a woman who had plotted against his throne. Mishel had also heard rumors that the new king wished for new bride.

'This tale,' Mishel thought bitterly, 'could go both ways.'

Either way he would lose his Isa, of that he was certain.

Silently, Mishel slipped away from the crowd, and walked up the sloped mountain. It was a long trek, but it did not matter. This was a trip Mishel had to make.

At the top of the hill, in the tiny cabin where he had lost Isa days ago, Mishel knelt and prayed to the gods. He needed a guide, a word of wisdom to tell him what he must do.

"Menore, I beg of you, please show me the way to my bride." He murmured. He held his breath, and waited. And waited. Finally, he gave up and sat on the ground in defeat, his shoulders bowed under heavy thoughts.

"Perhaps I can help you," a woman's voice said.

Mishel looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway. She had waist length raven hair, twisted and tangled with brambles and dirt. Her hands were badly scratched, and her dress torn. She had a heavy look in her eyes that Mishel could not decipher.

"Who are you?" Mishel asked, standing up.

The woman smiled at him uncertainly.

"I'm Isabelle's guardian." She frowned. "I lost her to the soldiers, but I think I know how we can get her back. But I will need your help, as you will need mine. Are you with me?"

**Authors note: Hey guys, I know there's a lot of stuff about 'praying to gods' in here. I would just like to note that this story is not based on any sort of religion. The only religion it may be based off of would be pagan, which sort of goes with the medieval theme. **

**Thanks to all my reviewers!**


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